


Those Who Understand

by Sorin



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: AO3 1 Million, Angst, Goodbyes, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1195650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorin/pseuds/Sorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's impossible to change Koltira Deathweaver's mind when it's made up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Who Understand

“When I grow up, I’m going to be a ranger- and you will be too, Faltora!  We’ll always be together.”

Those words from Koltira Deathweaver’s past still came out to taunt him on occasion, reminding him of everything he’d lost, everything he’d desperately wanted since the second it had been torn from him.  It would have been smarter of him, he reasoned, to have simply left the battlefield when his brother had fallen… because it was clearly a fit of grief-torn madness that had led him to follow the human death knight, Thassarian, to confront him and beg him to fight by his side.  As if _that_ would ever have worked.

Still, Koltira mused from his room in Acherus, things _did_ seem to have worked themselves out, more or less… if he chose to be optimistic, at any rate, which he usually didn’t waste time with.  Faltora was dead and gone, which suited Koltira _far_ better than the thought of his beloved little brother as a death knight like himself- and Quel’thalas was flourishing, the Sunwell relit and a new era begun under the leadership of Lor’themar Theron.  Koltira hadn’t known him personally, had perhaps seen him from a distance a few times, but he figured Lor’themar would do as good a job as Kael’thas would have, had he not gone straight down the path of evil while being enticed by good intentions.

Koltira leaned against the windowsill and gazed out toward the north, toward his homeland, and not for the first time considered going back- not that he would have told anyone that he was thinking about it.  It would have been so easy… and it likely would have broken whatever remained of his heart.  He knew he’d find a cold welcome there, despite having given his own life to defend his country- and he’d lost _everything_ , his entire family, his friends… he’d even lost his own death, as absurd as that sounded.  Perhaps it would have been better, he thought, to just disappear after the Lich King had fallen.  Perhaps it would have been better to make an end, if he could bring himself to do so.

A knock at his door startled him out of his thoughts, which wasn’t a bad thing given how morose they’d become, and he turned toward the door.  “Come in,” he called, his voice hollow and lifeless.  He hated it.  The door opened and Thassarian strode in, pausing to smile briefly- very briefly- before closing it.  “Hmph.  You’re late,” Koltira sad, turning back toward the window.

“I didn’t realize time was something you kept strict track of,” Thassarian replied, walking over and leaning against the wall next to him, facing into the room as opposed to looking out the window.  “What did you want to tell me?”

“I’ve made up my mind,” Koltira replied, still gazing out the window.  “I’m going to join the Banshee Queen’s army.  I was part of it in life, so I suppose it makes enough sense to be part of it in death as well.”

Thassarian was silent for a long moment.  “It isn’t too late to join me,” he said.  “Come with me to Stormwind, swear your blade to the Alliance-“

“And do what?” Koltira interrupted, glancing at him and arching an eyebrow.  “Do you really think people are going to stop long enough to differentiate me from the sin’dorei?  That’s going to cause you- and me- a lot of grief along the way.”

“You’re too pessimistic,” Thassarian replied blandly.  “Besides, when have you cared what people think of you?”

Koltira snorted.  “I’m not pessimistic, I’m realistic.”  He knew Thassarian was right, but part of him disagreed because he knew what would happen if he tried to accompany him.  He softened just a little, which for him was _very_ unusual.  “You’ll be fine without me.”

Thassarian frowned and turned to face him.  “Of that I’ve little doubt, but if it were to come down to what I would _prefer_ …”

“We aren’t alive, Thassarian.  We can’t keep pretending to that effect.”  Koltira would have sighed, but that would have undermined the point he was trying to make.  “I _suppose_ if it came down to preferences, I would _prefer_ to accompany you- but you and I both know that’s impossible.”

Thassarian did sigh, then, and shook his head.  “It’s only impossible because you are the most stubborn man I’ve ever had the misfortune to cross paths with,” he replied.

Koltira smirked just a touch.  “And to think, you’re the one who raised me.  Regretting your decision now, Thassarian?”

“Not in the least.”  Thassarian leaned against the wall again, facing Koltira this time, arms crossed.  “In all seriousness, Koltira… don’t you think going to Sylvanas is a mistake?  Haven’t you heard the rumors about her?”

“I have.  I’m not impressed either way.”  Koltira shrugged.  “I was too far beneath her for her to take notice of me while I was alive, but perhaps my deeds in death will have done enough for me to actually make myself useful as more than just a foot soldier.”

“Let’s add infuriatingly frustrating to your list of qualities,” Thassarian said dryly.  “I can’t stop you if you’ve made up your mind, but… know that I think it’s a mistake, for the record.”

“Noted.”  Koltira finally turned to face him, gazing up- _up!_ \- at the human who’d taken his life and given him this new one… but, the one who’d spared his brother, in the end.  Thassarian was a walking contradiction- even now, as he asked Koltira to reconsider, he had to have known that it wasn’t possible.  “If it came down to what we wanted, neither of us would even be here,” he said quietly.  “We’d both be dead and forgotten, which is as it _should have been._ ”

Thassarian gave him an odd look, then glanced toward the window.  “I note your room faces Quel’thalas,” he said.  “You do want something, Koltira.”

Koltira smiled, though there was no humor, no warmth, nothing positive in it.  “Yes,” he said simply, “I do.”  He was silent for a long moment after his smile faded away.  “As nobody can give it to me, however, it’s something I have to turn my back on.  I’ve no doubt Lor’themar Theron would accept me into the military- we _are_ to be seen as equals to those living, after all- but I’m not interested in the pity I’d likely get from the rest of the soldiers around me.  How can you stand it?”

Thassarian shrugged.  “I haven’t paid it any heed, I suppose,” he replied.  “If people want to pity me they’re more than welcome to do so.  Most of them hate me, and that’s fine as well.”

“Maybe, for once, I want something other than to be hated.”  Koltira pushed himself away from the window, taking a few paces into his room- he didn’t go far.  He never did.  “I can’t hope to be _loved,_ certainly, but to at least be accepted… that sounds like something I have been missing.”

Silence for a long moment, and then Thassarian spoke quietly.  “I realize that such things are beyond us, but I-“

“Don’t.”  Koltira didn’t look back at him then, though he desperately wanted to, somewhere inside his dead, frozen heart.  He remembered what it was like in life to have a lover, to have someone to laugh with and share himself with, and there was absolutely zero chance of that happening now.  “I already know.”

“Of course you do,” Thassarian muttered.  He slowly pushed away from the wall and walked to stand next to Koltira.  “Then this is goodbye for now, Koltira- but I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

Koltira did glance at him then and nodded.  “Of that I have no doubt,” he replied.

After Thassarian had left his room, Koltira returned to the window and gazed out again, once more looking toward Quel’thalas.  Perhaps he was making a mistake, he thought, but surely it would be best to be among those who’d understand… surely it would be the right decision, in the end.

After all… what harm could come from those who truly understood?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble for AO3's 1 million works celebration:) Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
